


i'll be your sunflower

by scagnetism



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Harry, emotional harry, endless amounts of fluff, it's just a lot of pregnant harry fluff, umm there's like mild smut and i mean very mild bc nothing even happens rip, understanding louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7209926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scagnetism/pseuds/scagnetism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis.  “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car.  “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time.  ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”</p><p>Or, a few interruptions aren't going to stop Harry from having a perfect pregnancy and having the family he and Louis have always dreamed of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be your sunflower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fightingforlarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightingforlarry/gifts).



> Hiiiii, fightingforlarry! I really hope you like this labor of love! I strayed from the prompt slightly, but hopefully you like it anyway :) x
> 
> Special thank you to Kayla, Leah, and Katelyn who are the best cheerleaders in the world and who I couldn't have gotten through this fic without! All of you are the most wonderful <3
> 
> Title from "Sunflower" by The Weepies.

Harry’s wanted kids for as long as he can remember.

Harry’s wanted kids with _Louis_ for as long as he can remember.

And he knows they’re still young, but it’s all they’ve ever wanted, something that’s felt as natural as breathing to both of them.   Sometimes his mind floats back to the X-Factor house, back when he and Louis were just beginning, staying up all night and talking about their hopes and dreams and fears and their future.  And of course, that meant talk of babies and how both of them want enough kids to have their own football teams.

“I think I’d like to have babies with you someday,” Harry had said, covering his face with his hand because he was only 16, and what 16 year old even has that thought, let alone verbalises it?  Harry still remembers how scared he was after saying it, but mostly, he remembers how his heart rate picked up when Louis had moved his hand away and said with a wide grin, “I think I’d like that, too, Hazza,” before pressing his lips against Harry’s.

So, it was settled.

Having kids has always been something they’ve talked about over the years – contemplating it after meeting young fans and feeling especially broody, after spending time with Louis’ family at Christmas, when falling asleep was out of the question and they just let their minds drift to better days ahead.

But with tour after tour and album after album, there was never a time to fit a baby into that schedule.

Now, though, nearly six years later, with a break ahead of them, there’s more than enough time, and Harry’s so excited to finally, _finally_ get pregnant.

They started the bare bones of a nursery in their London home two years ago in a room two doors down from their master bedroom.  Right now, there’s not much of anything in it, but there’s a crib, a changing table, a rocking chair, and lots of promise, and every time Harry walks past it, butterflies take flight in his stomach when he thinks about there being a baby, their baby, in that room in only a few short months. 

Harry and Louis find themselves often staring longingly into the room when they walk by, smiling at each other when they think of all the good things to come.

He can’t wait.

*

It’s Saturday afternoon and they’re going to make a baby.

Harry could die of excitement.

“Lou,” Harry moans as Louis sucks a bruise onto his collarbone, hand flying to his zipper.  He’s so keyed up that any movement Louis makes has his brain turning to mush.

“So pretty for me, baby,” Louis breathes, pressing a sloppy kiss to his Adam’s apple, causing Harry to let out another moan.  He makes quick work of unbuttoning Harry’s jeans and starting to slide them off, and Harry’s circling his hips already dying for friction – he isn’t going to last long.  “Be good.”

Harry buries his hand in Louis’ soft hair and lets out another pitiful moan when there’s a loud bang.  His eyes fly open as he says, “what the fuck?” voice coming out rough.

“Ignore it,” Louis replies simply, petting his stomach lightly.  “Let’s get your shirt off, baby, yeah?”

There’s another loud bang.  “Louis,” Harry whines.  He’s painfully hard, can barely stand it, but clearly _something_ is going on, and he’s not about to let his house get broken into just because he and his husband are trying to make a baby.  Louis fish mouths for a second, but before he can say anything, there’s another bang.  “What the fuck is that?”

“Ignore it,” Louis repeats a little more harshly this time as he tugs at a curl, then pulls Harry’s shirt over his head.  Harry’s panting, almost embarrassed by how turned on he is, and the second Louis connects their lips, hand heading toward Harry’s cock, a loud, “Oi!  Tommo!  Hazza!  Where are ya?” echoes through their foyer.

Harry lets out a groan, head falling back onto their bed as his hair spreads out around him like a halo.  “How did he – ”  Louis shakes his head, looking slightly manic as he tries to get up.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Louis grunts, getting off of Harry with a sigh as he smoothes out his shirt.  Harry mourns the loss of friction against him and pulls himself up to retrieve his jeans, doing his best to ignore his blatant _issue_.

“Got the key from by the plant!” comes Niall’s answer.

“Why did we ever put the damn key there?”  Louis storms out into the hallway, standing by the banister and yelling down into the house.  “Niall, what the fuck are you – ”

“ _Why_ the fuck is he here?” Harry hisses, wincing as he stands up uncomfortably, and Louis turns to look at him, shrugging helplessly.

Niall’s guffaw rings out loud and clear, and while Harry usually loves the sound of his laughter, he’s ready to wring his neck.  “Payno’s out back!  Brought over some burgers!  Don’t tell me you forgot about the barbecue!”

“The barbeque,” Louis deadpans, turning back to Harry to shoot him a look of confusion.

“Fuck,” Harry grumbles, letting out a long breath as he slides into his jeans.  God, he just needs release, and that’s all he can think about, can barely focus on anything else.  Except.  “Wait, we did say that, like, last week, right?”  Louis’ face colors with recognition as he reluctantly nods.  “I hate our past selves.”

Louis giggles, but there’s a look of apology resting in his eyes.  “We’ll be right down, Nialler,” he calls in a flat tone, padding back into the bedroom and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist.  “We can’t kill them, can we?”

Harry laughs, pressing his face into Louis’ shoulder as he shakes his head.  “Don’t think so.”

“Take your time getting yourselves fixed up,” Niall shouts up to them, and Harry can hear the laugh in his voice.  He hates it.  “You fuckin’ sex machines.”

Before either of them can retaliate, they hear the slam of the door.  “‘M sorry, Haz,” Louis tells Harry softly, and Harry shrugs, knowing it’s not his fault.  “Later, okay?”

“Course, Lou,” he answers with a smile, leaning in to kiss him.  “Um, you can, uh.  Go down with them, yeah?  ‘Ve got.”  He shifts uncomfortably.  “Something to, uh.  Take care of.”

Louis nods knowingly, brushing a kiss along Harry’s temple.  “I’ll make it up to you.”  He rests his palm against Harry’s stomach, and Harry places his hand over his husband’s, looking down at their fingers resting together.  “And we’ll make a baby.”

His heart hammers against his chest at the mention of it, and he can’t help the grin that takes over his face.  “Can’t wait.”

*

When Niall and Liam finally leave hours later, Harry feels too tired to do anything.  It had been a great night with lots of laughs and great food and even better cocktails, thanks to the mixology skill Liam’s randomly acquired over the break, but he feels like he could sink into the sheets and stay there for hours.  He’d somehow forgotten how exhausting it is to deal with a drunken Niall, and when he and Louis fall to bed, the only thing on his mind is sleep.

“Rain check?” Harry asks sleepily, turning toward Louis and nuzzling into his chest.  He smells like grass and beer and summer and _Louis_.

“Course, love,” Louis answers, running his fingers through Harry’s tangled curls and kissing his forehead.  “First thing in the morning.”

Morning breaks with bright sunlight seeping through the curtains, and when Harry opens his eyes, he closes them again immediately, trying to savor the darkness a bit longer and hopefully fall back to sleep.  But he soon remembers Louis’ comment from the night before and smiles slyly to himself, deciding it’s best to stay awake. 

He kisses Louis’ nose, watching it twitch cutely in his sleep.  “Morning, sunshine,” Harry whispers, kissing his cheek, his temple, his eyelids. 

Louis shifts, sleepy smile starting to spread across his face.  “Hi, angel,” he says before he even opens his eyes, reaching his hand out to instinctively land on Harry’s waist.  “Starting early, hm?”

“Early bird gets the worm,” Harry giggles, voice still rough as he leans in for a kiss.

When they pull away, Louis draws his thumb softly over Harry’s cheekbone, murmuring, “You’re so beautiful.”  Harry sighs happily as Louis lets his hand slide down his body before he squeezes at the doughiness of his hip.  The touch goes immediately to Harry’s groin, and he knows he’s affected way too quickly, but he tells himself it’s because he didn’t have Louis’ hands on him long enough yesterday.

Their lips meet and they kiss lazily, licking into each other’s mouths as their hands roam each other’s bodies, tracing paths they know by heart.  It’s gentle like the morning sun, falling in rhythm with each other and feeling themselves almost become one.

“Lou,” Harry breathes softly, throwing his head back as Louis palms at his briefs.

“Jesus, baby, calm down,” Louis chuckles, and Harry tries to buck into his hand, but his touch is gone as quickly as it had arrived.  He then hears the drawer of their nightstand opening, shifting his gaze to Louis.  “There’s still some lube in here, isn’t there?”

Harry nods.  “Think so.”

He rummages around for a few more too long seconds, and Harry’s so ready to go.  “Hurry,” he whimpers, and Louis holds up a small container of lube victoriously.

“Ready to make a baby?” he asks softly, dropping it onto the sheets next to him as he presses into Harry’s hips with his thumbs so hard there’s sure to be bruises.

Arousal shoots right to Harry’s cock as he says that, and Louis grins wickedly.  Harry can feel himself already falling apart, cursing himself that it hasn’t taken much at all lately.  “So pretty,” he praises, kissing both of his soft love handles.  “So, so, pretty for me, Hazza.”  Louis works his magic and slides Harry’s briefs off easily, picking up the bottle of lube.  Harry’s practically panting with how much he wants this, back arched obscenely, and as luck would have it, the shrill ring of their landline cuts through the silence of their house.

“Fuck,” Harry spits, flopping down as he throws his arm over his face and lets out a groan.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Ignore it,” Louis answers with annoyance in his tone, and when Harry looks up, he’s making quick work of drizzling lube on his fingers.  “Let it go to the machine, alright, baby?”

Harry only manages a whimper in response as Louis pets his stomach gently with his clean hand.  He puts the interruption out of his mind, ready to focus on Louis, until he hears his mum’s voice coming loudly from their answering machine.  He tries to ignore it, but it’s Louis that stops this time, asking, “What the fuck is she even saying?”

“No one wants us to have kids,” Harry grumbles, and Louis sighs dejectedly while Harry mourns the loss of Louis’ hand against him.

The two of them stop for a moment, straining to hear the garbled but distinctive sound of Anne’s voice coming from downstairs.  “Pick the phone up, boys!” Harry can barely make out.  “I know you’re up!”

Harry makes eye contact with Louis just as he looks down at his lube covered hand miserably, dropping himself back down on the bed and plucking a tissue from the box on the nightstand.  “Nothing like hearing your mum’s voice to successfully kill the god damn mood,” he says.  

Harry wants to laugh, but he’s still so uncomfortably hard and turned on, biting his knuckle to stop himself from moaning.  “Never bloody wants to have grandchildren, apparently,” he replies, groaning as he reaches over to pick up the phone from the side table.  He shifts, trying his best to ignore his throbbing hard on as he answers the phone, clicking to put it on speaker.  “Hello, Mum,” he says drily.  “You’re on speaker.  What do you need?”

“You two weren’t answering your texts last night, loves,” Anne chirps easily, and Harry turns to Louis as they both roll their eyes.  “You alright?”

“Peachy.  Absolutely peachy,” Louis responds, and if Anne detects the sarcasm in his voice, she chooses to ignore it.  Harry loves her for that.

“The lads were over last night,” Harry explains, staring at one spot on the ceiling as he tries to focus everywhere but his dick.  “Didn’t leave til late, so Lou and I went right to bed after.  What did you need?”

“We got a new cat!” Anne cheers excitedly, and Harry can see Louis glaring at the phone out of the corner of his eye.  “I posted loads of pics on facebook!  You should go look!”

Louis looks over at Harry, rolling his eyes.  “A fucking cat?” he deadpans.  “For the love of Christ, she could’ve had a grandchild instead if she didn’t stop us.”

“I’m the one with the fucking boner,” Harry retorts, hand over the receiver, and Louis opens his mouth to retaliate, but he holds his hands up in surrender, pushing his lip out into a pout. 

“Sorry, baby,” he says softly, laying back down and kissing Harry’s cheek gently.  The small gesture has him whining slightly, trying to muffle the sound with his hand.  He feels fucking ridiculous.

Before either of them can say anything, Anne cuts in, “Were you saying anything, lovey?  I think the line cut out.  Sounded kind of static-y.”

“Just talking about breakfast, Mum,” Harry answers quickly as Anne happily launches into a story about the latest furry addition to the Styles family.

“’M gonna go make brekkie,” Louis murmurs a few minutes into Anne’s rambles, and Harry nods.  “Pancakes good?”

“Mm.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Louis chimes in, Anne’s voice coming to a halt.  “But I’m gonna head downstairs and make breakfast, so I just wanted to say bye.”

“Of course, darling,” she replies, and Harry can hear the smile in her voice.  “Maybe you can convince that husband of yours to come visit us soon?  I feel like I’ve forgotten what you both look like.”

“Hey!” Harry yelps in mock offense, laughing slightly as Louis chuckles.

“I’ll do my best.  Bye, Anne,” he says, and in seconds, she’s making sure Harry is still there before talking about the cat again.

Louis lowers his voice to a whisper only Harry can hear.  “We’ll make sure we get our alone time later, okay, baby?  Promise.”  He kisses the side of Harry’s mouth gently, like he’s trying to assure him it’ll actually happen.  “We’re gonna do this.”

Harry nods with a smile, feeling warmth bloom in his stomach.  “Can’t wait.”

*

That night, they unplug their landline, lock the door, hide the key, and turn off their cell phones.  Turn off all the lights in the front of their house to give the illusion that they’re not home.  Take every precaution so they can finally, finally shut out all the interruptions.

They manage three rounds before falling asleep.

It’s a good night.

*

Harry’s never been more scared in his life to do something as straightforward as pee on a stick, but he is, and the only thing more terrifying than trying to buy the tests without people seeing is actually finding out if he is or isn’t pregnant.  He and Louis bought six different brands just to have a better chance at accuracy, and they’re all lined up on the vanity as they wait the agonizing five minutes for the results to come back.

His future rests solely in a stick he had to piss on.

He has felt a little _off_ the past few days, waking up with a sour feeling in his stomach that he can’t quell, but he’s not sure if it means anything, and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.  It’s just that he wants it so _badly_ and has for so long – it’s hard not to get too excited.

Harry keeps glancing at his phone in his hand, stopwatch open and ticking down the seconds that seem to go on for hours.  His brain is whirling with thoughts he can’t quite fully form, but what it comes down to is simple: all he wants is a baby.

“What are you thinking, love?” Louis asks him as he walks in the door, soft in an oversized t-shirt and joggers, always able to see right through him.  He moves closer to him and tucks a few curls behind his ear gently, stroking through his hair a few times in the way he knows always calms him down.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair before shifting his eyes to his phone again, even though he knows it hasn’t been long enough.  “’M nervous,” he admits, biting his lip.

“Baby,” Louis coos, pulling Harry into his arms and rubbing circles on his back.  Harry noses into Louis’ neck breathing in the scent of their shower gel and morning warmth and _home_.  It’s what always grounds him, what always brings him back to earth – the utter safeness he feels whenever he’s surrounded by Louis.  “’S gonna be alright either way, yeah?  If you’re pregnant, that’s bloody amazing, and if not, we try again.  We’re good at that, aren’t we?”  Harry lets out a little huff of a laugh when he sees Louis waggle his eyebrows, but nods against him in agreement.  “We’re gonna make it happen, Hazza.”

“I really want this,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ skin, and he hums in response, a low rumble in his chest.

“Me, too, love.  I have a good feeling about this, y’know.”  Harry hopes he’s right, knowing Louis always has a strangely accurate intuition about things like this. 

Louis sways them back and forth to the rhythm of the song in his head, and Harry’s got his eyes closed, starting to feel more at ease when his phone beeps, signaling it’s time for them to check the tests.

Harry pulls away from Louis with wide eyes.  His stomach is churning and he feels frozen in place, but Louis grins, nudging Harry’s shoulder with the tip of his nose.  “Go on, then.  Have a look.”

He nods, feeling like he’s having an out of body experience.  He doesn’t want to look but he does all at once.  “You look,” he says with a shake of his head.  “’M too nervous.”

Louis smiles, the one reserved only for Harry.  “You should be the one to do it, Haz,” he answers simply, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s hand.  “’S alright either way.”

Harry closes his eyes and takes a moment to assume himself that whatever the outcome is, it’ll be fine.  With a deep breath and shaking fingers, he picks up a test.

The moment he looks down, he feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.  Gasping, he brings his free hand up to cover his mouth.

“Positive,” Harry breathes, verging on hysterics.  He can hear his heart pounding in his ears, can feel a tingling in his veins because oh my _god._  

He looks down at the counter, and Louis peers over his shoulder at the rest of the tests sitting in a line.  A plus, two lines, ‘pregnant’ written out in black print, two more lines, and another ‘pregnant.’  “Louis.”  It’s barely a whisper, but it holds all the weight in the world and the grin on Louis’ face says it all.  “Babe, fuck, I’m – we’re pregnant!”  He pulls Louis into his arms for the tightest hug he can muster, burying his face in his feathery hair.

“Baby, oh my god,” Louis answers, and Harry can feel the joy radiating off him in waves.  They pull apart only to connect their lips together, and Louis cradles Harry’s face in his hands, grinning against his lips.  “We’re having a _baby_ , Hazza.  We’re really doing this.”

When they look at each other, the tears in Louis’ eyes match the ones in Harry’s, and he’s sure the two of them will never stop smiling.  Harry reaches down to touch his still flat stomach, looking at it reverently now that he knows he’s got their baby inside, the world’s most precious cargo.  “We’re so excited to meet you,” he whispers, voice cracking as a few tears stream down his face.  “I can’t believe you’re really in there.  We’ve been waiting so long.”

Louis smiles, gingerly placing his hand on top of Harry’s.  “Your daddies love you more than anything.”

Harry involuntarily lets out a whimper as he meets Louis’ eyes.  “We’re gonna be _dads_ ,” he says incredulously, squeezing Louis’ fingers as he laces their hands on top of his tummy.  Immediately he’s transported to their younger selves telling Barbara Walters how much they wanted to start a family, smiling at the memory.  And now that moment is here, and it’s all too much to take in.  He can barely process it, but he supposes he’s got nine months to fully comprehend it all.

Louis leans in for a sweet kiss that brings him out of his thoughts.  “Daddy and Papa.”  Harry feels like his heart floats away, too full of love.  “I like the sound of that.”

*

It’s the hottest day of the year when they decide to tell their families.

Harry’s just made it past the twelve week mark, and he has no idea how they’ve managed to keep it a secret for as long as they have.  They confirmed the pregnancy when Harry was only five weeks along, and as they were leaving the doctor’s office, he was ready to text both their families and tell them the news, dying to let them in on the best thing that’s ever happened to them.

(“Baby’s the size of a sesame seed, Lou,” Harry had said, eyes glittering as he read off his phone the night they found out.  “A sesame seed!”  He’d tried to picture it in his head, the fact that _their baby_ was just a little grain in his belly.  “That’s wild, innit?  That’s.  So tiny.”  He looked at the sonogram he was holding in his hand, glancing over at Louis with a grin.

“Prettiest sesame seed I ever did see,” Louis had replied, kissing Harry as his hand came to rest on his belly.

“Now I want a sesame seed bagel.  With extra cream cheese.  But I’d feel weird, like.  Eating our baby.”

Louis had just laughed and offered to run to Tesco, and Harry most certainly didn’t say no, deciding on a poppy seed bagel instead.)

He and Louis both decided it was for the best to wait, just to make sure no complications arose.  It hasn’t been easy – Louis almost let it slip that Harry had bad morning sickness when they went to lunch with Lottie, eyes going wide as he scrambled to say he’d just gotten over a stomach bug instead.  (Harry thinks she caught on when he passed on a martini, giving him a knowing grin.)

The last time Harry facetimed Gemma, he almost asked her if she wanted to go shopping for maternity clothes, but caught himself right before he said it.  Gemma’s eyebrows had gone toward her hairline, but she didn’t say anything, just let it slide while wearing her signature smirk.

It’s been a series of close calls, but they’ve somehow managed, and that’s how they end up here – finally ready to announce it to their families.  Jay first via Skype, and Anne and Robin tonight when they come over for dinner.

Harry awakes with a churning in his stomach and barely has time to look at the clock before he’s rushing to the bathroom with his hand clamped over his mouth.  He makes it just in time, falling to his knees while holding his hair back and miserably retching into the toilet.  He slumps down against the bathtub when he’s done and tries to catch his breath.  His morning sickness has been unbearable lately, and he feels so _warm_ , sticky and ready to crawl out of his skin.

Harry pulls off his pajama shirt and rubs a hand over his bare belly, saying softly, “Hey, Little Pumpkin.  Go easy on me today, yeah?  ‘S a big day, and ‘ve got to be at my best.”  He’s sure the added nervous excitement about telling their families isn’t helping him feel any less queasy.

Louis appears in the doorway,  sleep rumpled and soft as he looks at Harry concernedly.  “Y’alright, love?” he asks, voice still scratchy, and Harry shrugs.

“Feel like shit,” he answers honestly, sliding the hair tie off his wrist and throwing his hair into a loose bun.  “’M so sick of this.”

“I’m sure, baby.”  Louis plops down next to Harry, pulling him into his arms.  He buries his face in Louis’ neck, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach is still doing flip flops.   Even the light circles Louis is rubbing on his back can’t take his mind off the nausea.  “It’s gonna be alright.”

Harry isn’t sure it is, but he allows Louis to try to soothe him anyway, whispering soft encouragements in his ear.

“Don’t feel good, Lou,” he whispers just before he’s leaning over the toilet again while Louis keeps his hand on his back, a steady presence.

Louis hops up once he’s finished and opens the medicine cabinet, pulling out the toothpaste to blob onto Harry’s toothbrush.  He leaves it on the lip of the sink before helping Harry up, putting an arm around his waist.  He doesn’t want to talk anymore or even be touched, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell Louis as he guides him over to the sink.  “Can I get you anything?  A light brekkie, maybe?”  He presses a kiss just below Harry’s ear, nuzzling the side of his neck gently. 

The thought of food makes Harry’s stomach roll, so he shakes his head, swallowing thickly before sticking the toothbrush in his mouth.  “Still got, like, two hours before we Skype your mum, yeah?” he asks around a mouthful of foam, and Louis nods.  “’M gonna take a cold shower and try to make myself feel alright.  Kinda wanna be left alone.”

“Course.  Let me know if you need anything,” Louis tells him with an understanding smile before heading back toward their bedroom.

Once he’s by himself, Harry braces himself against the counter and takes in a few deep breaths before finally deciding to get in the shower.  His back is aching from leaning against the hard porcelain, and he stretches out, hoping the water will ease the pain. 

Harry stops to take a moment to look at himself in the full length mirror against the wall.  He’s not really showing yet, so he hasn’t had to worry about hiding his belly.  He’s gotten a little softer around the middle, though, enough to make a smile tug at his lips as he pets over his tummy, but there’s no visible bump, despite the fact that he’s had to buy some new jeans because his old ones _will not_ button.  He can’t wait until he looks pregnant, ready for the entire world to know he’s going to be a dad.

 He pats his stomach again for good measure with a smile as he whispers, “Please don’t cause any more trouble today,” before getting in the shower.

Harry emerges an hour later feeling much better and more human than he had.  The baby’s been fucking with his body temperature, and he’s mostly preferred to walk around shirtless lately, but since they’re going to Skype Jay, he’s got on a loose, creamsicle orange vest that he already wants to peel off.  His hair’s up in a bun, unruly tendrils falling out and curling wildly at the base of his neck as he goes to the refrigerator in search of food.

He still feels slightly queasy, not wanting anything too heavy, when he remembers the box of banana popsicles he had Louis get at the store the other day.  He pulls one out and pops it in his mouth right as Louis enters the kitchen, laughter on his lips.

“Love, we’re skyping me _mum_.  Do you have to eat that now?” Louis chuckles, quirking his brows.  “Can’t you have, like.  Ice cream instead?  Not phallic ice cream.”

“Lou, ‘m roasting my bloody ass off,” Harry whines, taking another short lick.  “And it’s one of the only things that doesn’t make me wanna vomit.”  He pushes his lips into a pout, and Louis smiles, never able to resist Harry’s puppy face. 

Louis brushes a few stray curls away  from Harry’s face before kissing his cheek.  “Can’t argue with that, I suppose.  Pumpkin still giving you tummy troubles?”

“Yeah, I think.  They doesn’t seem to want me to feel alright today, I guess.”

“Sorry, Haz,” Louis says sympathetically.  He bends down to splay his hand across Harry’s belly, making him smile.  “Gotta be good today, little one.  Don’t need your daddy to be sick while we tell your nan about you, hm?”

Harry can’t help but giggle as Louis stands up, eyes glittering.  “Maybe they’ll listen to you better than they’ve been listening to me.” 

“’M gonna end up being the stern parent, aren’t I?”

Harry huffs and rolls his eyes, but realistically, he knows neither of them will be the stern parent – they’re both too much in love with kids, and he can’t imagine how much more intense that feeling will be for their own baby.  “You look like a lion, but roar like a kitten.”

“Oi, that’s a bit bloody offensive,” Louis tells him, bringing his hand to his chest in mock offense.  He’s grinning, though, as he leans in to give Harry a kiss.  “What if we just go relax and watch telly until we’ve gotta call Mum?  That sound good?”

“Back rub, too?” Harry asks, batting his eyelashes in the way he knows Louis can never say no to.  He licks the popsicle a little more seductively, using it to his advantage.  “Think baby would love that.”  He pats his belly for emphasis, and with a gentle eye roll, Louis agrees.

“I’ll go get the lotion you like,” he answers, planting a kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Stern parent my arse.”  Harry grins cheekily, watching Louis’ middle finger shoot in the air before he heads away.

Harry rubs a hand over his belly again soothingly once Louis is out of ear shot, whispering, “Think you’ve already got Papa wrapped around your finger, little princess.  But all little princesses do.”

He doesn’t know for sure that he’s having a girl, but he’s had a _feeling_ that he was since he found out he was pregnant.  A few weeks ago, he had a dream that they had a daughter with Louis’ ocean eyes and his unruly curls, the three of them in lying in the grass laughing loudly.  He hasn’t told Louis about his intuition because it feels silly to him to even admit, but he’s pretty sure he’s right and can’t wait for the day they finally find out the sex.

He’s smiling to himself, absently licking his popsicle, when Louis comes back into the kitchen.  “You talking shit about me to our baby, Curly?” Louis asks, putting his hands on his hips in a failed attempt to look menacing.

“Never,” Harry answers, mind drifting to Louis playing footie with their daughter in the backyard.  “Just love you.  ‘S all.”

He grins, eyes crinkling at the corners.  “Just love you, too.”

An hour later, with Harry’s back feeling much better thanks to Louis’ great massage skills, Jay’s pixelated face appears on screen, and Harry feels like he could die.  He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to tell her because he knows she’ll be over the moon, but god, he just wants to throw up, and this time he can’t even blame Pumpkin.  Louis must sense his anxiety and reaches over to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring smile.  “Hi, Mum,” Louis greets warmly as he and Harry wave.  They can do this.  They can totally do this.

“Hi, boys!  It’s so lovely to see you!” she beams, adjusting the camera as her grin grows.  “How have you been?  Are you melting in this heat?”

“Just about,” Harry tells her with a laugh, and Louis strokes his thumb along his hand.  “How’ve you lot been?  All good?”

“We’ve been wonderful and very busy and wondering when you two are going to pay us a proper visit, hm?  Not that I don’t love Skype but it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to squeeze you both!”

Louis laughs, shooting Harry a glance, and now he can see Louis’ nerves starting to shine through.  “We’ll come up soon, yeah.  How are the girls and Ernie?  Driving you absolutely mad now that school is out?”

Jay starts updating them on all the latest happenings in the Tomlinson household, and any other day, Harry would be more than interested, but today he wants to _die_.  He and Louis both “oh, wow” and “that’s great” in the appropriate places, but it feels hollow when his mind is in a totally different place.  He doesn’t even know _why_ he’s so nervous, leg bouncing at its own will, and soon, Louis grabs Harry’s knee, stopping the motion.  “’S’alright, H,” he mumbles reassuringly, Harry looking up at him with a nod.

“Something wrong, loves?” Jay asks concernedly, noticing their shift in mood.

“Got something to tell you, Mum,” Louis answers, small smile coming over his face, and Harry can’t help but start to grin.

Jay grins, clapping her hands, and for a second, Harry feels like she already knows what they’re going to say, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking to save himself the announcement.  He rubs over his tummy, knowing his torso is off camera.  “Oh, darlings, is this why we absolutely _had_ to Skype today?”

“Um, yeah, actually, we wanted – ” Harry starts, but there’s a loud scream of, “MUUUUUM!” coming from Jay’s end that causes he and Louis to share a look.  “Everything alright?”

“MUM!”  Phoebe marches into the frame, and Jay shoots them a sympathetic glance before turning her attention to her daughter.  “Oh, hi, Lou, hi, Hazza!” she chirps, waving to the screen excitedly and grinning when they wave back and blow her kisses.  She schools her face back into a look of concern as she looks back at Jay.  “You’ll _never_ believe what the twins got up to.”

“Always bloody something,” Louis grumbles, looking at Harry apologetically.

“’S not like it’s your fault,” Harry answers earnestly, and Louis shrugs, fixing his fringe like he always does when he’s not sure what to do with his hands.  “Fringe looks good, babe.”

He smiles.

“Boys, I’m sorry,” Jay says, causing them both to look at the screen again.  She runs a hand through her hair – like mother, like son – as she stands up, bending down to make sure her head is still in the frame.  “I’ve got to go check on what havoc the little ones have caused.  I’ll be back in a mo!  Don’t exit the call!”

“Of course,” Louis calls as they watch her disappear from the frame, and the second she’s out of the room, Harry plonks his head onto his husband’s shoulder.  “Why do we have a penchant for everyone interrupting us all the time?  What the fuck is that about?”

“You _know_ we don’t draw on the _walls_!” comes Jay’s booming ‘mum voice,’ as Louis always calls it, and knowing that she’s upset makes nerves settle even further in Harry’s stomach.  He can feel his face turn into a look of uncertainty, hoping that Louis doesn’t notice.

He does, of course, reminding him, “We’re giving her good news that she’ll be happy about,” and Harry takes in a deep breath, nodding to himself.  He knows Louis is right, but it still doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

“Wish I knew how to make the interruptions stop,” Harry finally says.  “D’ya suppose something will get in the way when this one finally decides to make their entrance?”  Louis can’t help but smile, reaching over to place his hand on Harry’s belly.  He’ll never get over the feeling of Louis’ palm splayed over his stomach, warm and safe.

“Dunno, love.  Maybe they’ll close down the city because an evil genius has stopped to take over the world.  Alien invasion, maybe.  I reckon that would put a halt on things.”

He stifles a laugh against his shoulder, playfully whining, “Louuuu,” as Louis nuzzles into his hair, no doubt displacing his bun.

“Zombie apocalypse.”

“Bubonic plague,” Harry adds seriously as Louis snorts.

“Nothing we can’t overcome,” Louis assures, kissing the top of his head, and Harry’s soothed for a moment as he looks back to their screen, picture still of the empty room.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, and Harry’s nausea starts to come back the longer they sit there waiting for Jay to return.  They can still hear the faint sounds of her scolding the twins, and Harry wishes she’d just hurry up.  He presses a hand to the bottom of his belly, taking in a breath.

“Okay, baby?”  Louis’ brows are knitted together in concern as he takes Harry’s hand in his again.

“Yeah, ‘m nauseous.  Not sure if it’s, like, nerves or if it’s just Pumpkin causing some trouble.”

Louis kneels down next to the chair he was sitting in and flips up Harry’s shirt, cupping his hands around Harry’s tiny belly.  “Thought we told you to go easy on Daddy today, lovebug,” he says softly, and Harry can feel his heart hammering against his chest.  Seeing Louis talk to the baby always has him feeling like he’s going to burst with the amount of love he has for him, how much he can’t wait for their little family to be on its way to complete.  “Doesn’t seem like you’re listening very well.”

Harry giggles, running his hand through Louis’ hair.  “Well, I mean, they’re only the size of a passion fruit, babe.  They don’t even have proper ears yet.”

Louis shrugs as he presses a kiss to Harry’s tummy.  “Oh, look at you with your fancy baby knowledge.”  He pokes his tongue out.

“Considering I’m the one growing her, I figure I should at least read up or summat.”

He tilts his head like he’s pondering it, and Harry wants to kiss him, so he does, leaning down to bring their lips together softly and laughing as he pulls away.  “Fair point.”  A beat later, he looks up at Harry with furrowed brows.  “Her?”

Harry feels himself flush at his slip up, nodding slightly.  “Um, yeah.  Think it’s, like.  Intuition and I could be wrong, but I just feel like she’s a girl.  Have right from the start, really?  And I had a dream a few weeks ago, and we had a daughter, so, like.”  He shrugs.  “I’d be so happy with either, but I think ‘m right.”

Warmth floods Louis’ smile as he looks at Harry’s tummy again, touching it gently, and Harry feels butterflies take flight.  “I’d love a girl,” he murmurs thoughtfully, and there’s love thrumming through Harry’s veins when he pictures the two of them singing to a little princess.  “And I’d love to read the baby books, yeah?  Wanna know what’s going on.”

 “Oh my god,” Jay’s voice says, and Harry looks up at the screen so quickly he’s sure he snapped his neck.  He manages a glance down at Louis whose face is frozen with wide eyes.  “Harry.”  He thinks there are tears shining in her eyes as she brings her hands up to cover her mouth.  “Are you...?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile, feeling relieved to finally tell her.  “’M pregnant.  Twelve weeks.”

“Oh my god!  Oh my god!” she screeches, and Louis pulls himself up, plopping down in the chair again so he can see the screen again.  She’s waving her arms like she’s not sure what to do, making unintelligable noises of joy before finally shouting, “Girls!  Get in here!  Girls, hurry!”  Her grin is so wide her face must hurt, and all of Harry’s prior nerves melt away as Louis takes his hand in his.  “Loves, you are going to be the most wonderful dads in the world!”  They share a smile just for the two of them, one that’s worth a thousand words, before watching Jay wipe a few tears away.  “I am so excited for you!  Oh, goodness!”

“Thanks, Mum,” Louis answers softly, voice quivering with emotion.  “Haz and I are so excited.”

Phoebe and Daisy come rushing in with phones in hand, both looking rather unimpressed.  “What, Mum?” Daisy asks, hand on her cocked hip.

“Harry’s pregnant!” Jay shouts, and immediately the twins start jumping up and down, screaming excitedly as Jay gets up to hug them.  “I’m gonna be a grandmum!”

“Think they’re excited?” Louis asks, breath hot on Harry’s neck before he kisses just below his ear.

“Maybe a little,” Harry replies, smiling as he settles a hand over his belly and watches as his family cheers and dances before making their way back over to the screen to ask how everything’s going, how Harry’s feeling, offering morning sickness remedies, and making the two of them promise to come visit ASAP.

It couldn’t be more perfect.

*

At twenty weeks, Harry has rounded out nicely with a bump that he and Louis can’t keep their hands off of.  He’s not huge, not yet, but he’s got a cute tummy that he loves to accentuate with tight clothes because that’s their _baby_ , real and alive and growing, and he wants everyone to know.  If he looks at himself in the mirror a little more often now, running a hand over his bump lovingly, only he and Louis have to know.  He’s stopped feeling nauseous – all traces of morning sickness are long gone now that he’s halfway through, thank god – and he’s feeling great, always energetic and ready to go.  His back might hurt a little more than usual (Louis gives the best back rubs of anyone in the world), but it’s a small price to pay when he gets to grow his and Louis’ baby. 

Their _daughter_ , to be precise.

Harry had burst into tears when he learned his intuition was right and they were expecting a little girl, Louis grinning next to him with unshed tears in his eyes.  She’s growing right on schedule, and even in grainy, black and white ultrasound pictures, she’s the most beautiful thing that Harry’s ever seen, and he can’t wait to finally meet her and hold her.  Until then, he’s happy to keep her safe and warm in his belly.

All in all, everything is going smoothly, and Harry really couldn’t ask for a better first pregnancy.

There’s only one problem.

He hasn’t felt her kick.

Well, that’s not totally true because Harry has felt tiny flutters dance in his stomach like butterfly wings, but he hasn’t felt a real, proper kick, and Louis hasn’t felt anything at all.  He’s tried talking to her, whispering little assurances that her daddies really want to feel her kick, but the baby is yet to listen to he or Louis, no matter how much they beg.

Tonight, the two of them are curled up on the couch catching up on Great British Bake Off, a plate of apples and peanut butter on the end table next to Harry.  He’s got his head resting on Louis’ shoulder, shirt rucked up over his bump as he draws patterns along the laurels framing his belly with his index finger.  “Is Pumpkin moving?” Louis murmurs into Harry’s hair, tucking a wayward curl from his bun behind his ear, and he nods.

“Yeah, I can feel the flutters,” he replies, and he’s grinning as he says it, selfishly loves the moments he shares with the baby, even though all he wants is for Louis to be able to feel, too.

Louis’ eyes twinkle with something like hope as he moves his hand to rest on Harry’s stomach, face falling immediately.  “Still can’t feel it, baby,” he whispers, and Harry kisses the side of his jaw.

“Soon, babe.  I’m sure of it.”  For good measure, he pokes at his belly and whispers, “Papa would really like to be able to properly say hello to you.  But don’t rush it.  Whenever you’re ready, lovebug.”

Louis grins with a slight eye roll, but Harry knows that’s the sign his husband is the most hopelessly endeared.  “I hope she’s ready soon,” he says quietly, and Harry kisses him again, trying to wipe the frown off his face.

“Bet she’s proper nervous to say hello to you,” Harry tells him with a smile, causing Louis’ brows to quirk in confusion.  “I talk you up quite a lot to her all throughout the day, telling her how lovely and wonderful and charming you are.  Probably thinks you’re royalty or something.”

Louis’ face goes soft, staring at Harry with adoration.  Harry’s mum says Louis looks at him like he’s hung the stars when he makes that face, and Harry’s never sure how he got lucky enough to be the object of Louis’ affection.  “I love you.”  He strokes his thumb across Harry’s belly, staring down at it with a fond smile.

“I love you, too.”

Louis’ phone rings immediately after, an unwelcome interruption in their bubble of calm, and he takes it out of his pocket with a groan.  “Ugh,” he huffs with another eye roll, the kind that really does mean annoyance, “’s Julian.  He tried to call earlier to talk about that banger Payno and I wrote the other day cause someone wants it.  Pause that please, yeah?”  He points to the TV and untangles himself from Harry.

“What a hotshot you are,” Harry chides, laughing as Louis pokes his tongue out at him before bringing the phone to his ear.  He clicks the pause button on the remote and watches fondly as Louis steps into the other room to take the call, listening to him chat animatedly.

Harry plucks an apple off the plate and dips it in peanut butter, humming contentedly as he pops it in his mouth.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket, absently scrolling through Instagram when he feels it.

Harry jumps a little, looking down at his belly in disbelief.  It was small, barely a light poke against his skin, but it was unmistakable – that was a _kick._  “Pumpkin,” he says softly, reverently, hand flying to the spot he felt her.  He presses down lightly, wondering if he can get her to respond, and sure enough, he feels another tap against his palm.  “Oh, fuck.”  His eyes well, and he’s grinning so hard the apples of his cheeks are already hurting.

“Oh, fuck, you couldn’t have done this while your papa was in here?” he asks her a little hysterically, and he gets another kick in response that makes him grin, feeling like they’re having some sort of real conversation.  “You’re really in there, huh?”  She kicks again as if to say yes and the tears start spilling out as he whispers, “Daddy loves you a lot.”  Of course he knew she was real, but this takes it to another level.  She’s theirs.  He’s having their baby.

Harry smiles to himself, wiping the tears and sniffling a few times.  He pulls himself up faster than he has in weeks, back protesting when he stands to his full height.  Pumpkin kicks again once he stands, apparently not liking the sudden movement and he rushes to the other room with a hand braced on his back, grinning like an idiot.

“Lou,” Harry whispers loudly, and Louis turns to look at him immediately, holding up one finger.  “Louis, no, it’s – ”  She kicks again, and Harry smiles, happily touching his belly.  Louis’ brows knit together as he looks at Harry, waving his hand to signal some sort of further explanation.  “She’s kicking, like, really kicking, babe.”

His eyes widen as a grin takes over his entire face.  “Oh, bloody fucking, shit, I – Julian, I’ll call you back,” Louis says, and Harry can hear garbled protests coming from Julian as hangs up and throws his phone down on a nearby table.   He runs over to Harry, putting his hands on his bump right away.  “Where?  D’ya think I’d be able to feel finally?  Was it, like, strong enough?  Like, a proper kick?  Maybe she’ll be a footie player?”

Harry giggles, moving Louis’ hand to the spot she was pressing against only a moment ago.  “Think it might be a little too early to tell how good her footie skills are, love, but y’never know, right?”

They’re silent, standing in their office with Louis’ hands tightly cupping Harry’s bump.  Nothing happens, so Harry presses against the spot a few times with no movement in response.  Louis’ face turns to a frown as he whispers, “I don’t feel anything, Hazza.”  He looks up at him dejectedly.  “Maybe she‘s not strong enough for me to feel.”

“It was strong enough, I know it, but she’s stopped,” Harry tells him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek and smiling as his belly brushes against Louis’ stomach.  He looks so sad that all Harry wants to do is lift his mood.  “But hey, next time she does, you’ll be able to feel it for sure.  I bet she’s just tired out.  That’s gotta be a lot of work for someone so small.  She’s, like.  Banana sized.”

“Banana?”  Louis wrinkles his nose.  “’S not _that_ small.”

“It is for a person, innit,” Harry giggles, putting his hand on top of Louis’.  “Let’s go finish up Bake Off, babe.  Maybe she’ll kick while we watch.”

Louis nods, still looking a little gloomy, but they head back into the living room and curl up together again.  “Should’ve bloody known someone would interrupt us when she kicked, too,” he grumbles.  “Julian’s gonna get an earful.”

Harry sighs with a light laugh, leaning into his shoulder and smiling when Louis drops a kiss to the top of his head.  “Promise you’ll feel it next time, love.”

Louis’ hand doesn’t leave Harry’s bump the entire night – just in case.

*

After a night of Louis pouting and begging Pumpkin to kick every few seconds and Pumpkin being stubborn and ignoring his requests (“Gets it from her Papa, I think,” Harry had said, “her Papa can be a bloody diva, too, sometimes, can’t he?” and Louis had just swatted at Harry’s arm lovingly), they head to bed with a still-disappointed Louis. 

“I hope she kicks tomorrow,” Louis whispers, face pressed against Harry’s belly.  He kisses the softness of his hip with a dejected sigh before pulling down Harry’s pajama shirt and fitting himself behind him.

“I’m sure she will.”  He settles his back against Louis’ chest, reaching behind him to run his fingers down his jaw lightly.  “Gotta give it time, Lou.  It’s only day one!”

“I wanna have a connection with her, too, though,” he murmurs, barely a noise in the darkness.  He places his hand on Harry’s tummy, drawing gentle patterns.

“You will,” Harry assures, endless love bubbling within him.  “She’s gonna love you to death.  Everyone does, love.”

“I hope so.”  It’s not even a whisper, said like it’s a secret, like he doesn’t want to let on how nervous he is.

“I know so,” Harry counters, and Louis kisses just below his ear.

After a few moments of silence, there’s a sudden nudge against Harry’s bump, and he feels Louis’ breath hitch against his neck like she’ll stop if he moves an inch.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers, and Harry can practically feel his husband’s heartbeat pounding against his back.  “Was that – ”

“Yeah,” Harry answers with a knowing smile, and he rolls onto his back carefully and pulls his shirt up over his bump, watching as Louis leans down and presses both hands to the soft skin, touching the laurels like they’ll break.  “Yeah, babe, she – ”  He’s cut off by another kick, and Louis looks up at him, blue eyes full of unshed tears that glisten in the dim glow of the moonlight.  “Told you she’s tiny and just needed a rest.”

Louis stares at his bump incredulously, leaning down to kiss near Harry’s bellybutton.  When Harry doesn’t think he can love him any more than he already does, it somehow multiplies, becomes all encompassing, and takes him over.  “Holy shit, Hazza,” he gasps eventually.  “Hazza, we _made_ her.  She’s a little _person_.  What the fuck?”

Harry laughs breathlessly, petting Louis’ hair and blinking back the tears that have filled his own eyes.  “She’s our pumpkin,” he whispers, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment.  He lets a few stray tears fall, watching as Louis smiles up at him, looking dazed but so, so happy.

She kicks again, not as hard this time.  “I already love her so much,” Louis tells Harry, stroking his thumb over the spot where she’s kicking, and Harry’s heart almost explodes.

“Me, too, Lou.”

He falls asleep to the soft sound of Louis singing “Strong” to their little girl and dreaming of their future.

*

“Haz, let me carry that, yeah?  You’re not supposed to carry anything heavy!”

Harry stops mid step, laughing as Louis starts to take the bag out of his hand.  He lets him take it, never objecting to being spoiled, but he’s being ridiculous like usual.  “Four shirts is hardly anything heavy, Lou.”

“Let’s not risk it.”  Louis tucks his free hand into Harry’s with a smile.  “They look nice on you, baby.  But you always look beautiful.”

Harry grins, squeezing Louis’ fingers slightly.  He’s been having trouble finding clothes that fit him properly now that he’s this far along, and it’s been frustrating to outgrow all his favorite outfits, even though Louis consistently assures him he looks gorgeous in anything he puts on. 

An advantage to having the world at his feet is having designers willing to make him custom clothes even all throughout his pregnancy.  Today alone, they picked up his shirts from Gucci, custom jeans from Paige Denim, and talked to YSL about a new suit.  Nothing is going to stop him from looking his best always.

“Can we please go home now, babe?” Harry asks as they head back to their car.  He rubs a hand over his bump, trying to soothe Pumpkin.  She’s been kicking him all afternoon, getting him right in the ribs, and he’s been peeing nonstop, having to ask for a restroom in nearly every store they stopped at.  His back is aching, and his feet feel too big for his boots – all he wants to do is to go home and curl up in bed.

“Had enough of me?”  Louis smiles cheekily.

“Never,” Harry replies as Louis lets go of his hand to open the boot of the car and put the bag inside with the others.  “Just really wanting our bed and a foot rub right now.”  He stifles a yawn against the back of his hand and opens the door, carefully plopping into the passenger’s seat with a groan when his back twinges.  He’s so _sore_ and so tired of being sore.

“You hurting?” Louis asks concernedly, and Harry hears him close the boot before he gets into the driver’s seat, fitting the key in the ignition as the radio hums to life.

“Yeah, a little.”

Louis check his phone with his lip between his teeth like he’s trying to calculate something before starting to type.  “Um,” he says once he’s finished, locking his phone and putting it in the cup holder, sparing another glance down at it.  “What if we went and got ice cream?  Then go home?”

Harry wants to protest, but he knows Louis is stalling because he has _something_ planned – he’s always way too obvious about these things – and he supposes he should indulge him.  “Only if you go get it and let me stay in the car,” he retorts, fitting the seatbelt around his bump as comfortably as he can.  “Not sure ‘m gonna be able to get out anyway.”

Louis chuckles, shaking his head lightly.  “Deal.”

Harry doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, but there’s some scheme Louis has concocted that started with him insisting they spend the whole afternoon away from home.  First they had lunch at Harry’s favorite restaurant, then stops to pick up all of Harry’s custom clothes with a few extra stops at random boutiques Harry liked along the way.  Louis’ been checking his phone randomly the entire time, trying to angle the screen away from Harry, and even though he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he’s sure there’s something.  Having a surprise planned for Harry involves the two things Louis is worst at – keeping secrets and subtlety. 

Harry appreciates all Louis has done, and he’s enjoyed himself, always happy to have extra time with his husband.  He knows their time together will be limited once Pumpkin arrives, but right now he’s _so tired_ since _someone_ was up kicking him all last night, and the only thing he wants to do is take off his shoes, put on his pajamas, and sleep, provided Pumpkin will allow him to rest.  He hopes whatever the surprise is won’t prevent him from doing all of that.

At thirty weeks, the baby is the size of a cabbage (though Harry prefers to call her _chou chou_ this week, since it sounds so much nicer than _cabbage_ ), and he’s glad she’s healthy and growing, but misses not feeling so huge all the time.  His back almost constantly hurts, his belly gets in the way of everything, and he rarely even wears his boots anymore since his feet are so swollen.  Still, he rarely complains because he loves watching his bump grow and change with Pumpkin, ready to meet her in only a few weeks.

“You alright?” Louis asks, looking over with furrowed brows when Harry shifts in his seat.

He nods, running a hand through his hair.  “’M fine.  Just achy and can’t wait to get in our bed, but ‘s nothing a strawberry cone with rainbow sprinkles can’t fix.”  He manages a smile when Louis lets out a little huff of a laugh.

“Baby’s gonna come out a sprinkle with all the ice cream you’ve eaten,” he replies with a smile, tone light.

“Think I might like it better if she was still sprinkle sized,” Harry jokes, resting his hand on top of his bump and feeling her move against it.  “Maybe then her kicks wouldn’t keep me up all night.”  He yawns into his hand, blinking sleepily.

“Not too much longer,” Louis assures, reaching over to tangle their fingers together.  “You’ve been doing a great job growing her, love.”

Harry feels a smile start to spread across his face, leaning back against the headrest as he hums along absently to the song on the radio.  Pumpkin has stopped moving, finally giving him some relief, and he feels his eyes closing, like he could take a nap right in the car.  Harry’s close to dozing when he recognizes the faint sounds of a familiar beat, his own voice coming through the speakers.  “Reckon I know this one,” Louis says with a laugh, letting go of his hand in favor of turning up the volume.  “Have we played this one for her?”

_I got a river for a soul, and baby, you’re a boat..._

“Don’t think so,” Harry chuckles with a shake of his head, knowing they’ve played the songs most important to them for her already, the ones that were the only way to proclaim their love out loud when the world forced them to be silent.  “Wonder if she’ll like it.”

“Hope so,” Louis replies, looking adorably concerned as Harry gazes over to him.  He’s hopelessly endeared by how much Louis wants their daughter to be proud of them and reaches his hand out to rest on his thigh, not missing the way his lips barely twitch upward.  “It’d be a bloody shame to have her hate all our hard work.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about hearing her proper opinion for the next few years, babe,” Harry laughs, soothing his thumb along the seam of Louis’ jeans.  “I don’t think she’s gonna come out a music critic.  And besides, she’s gonna love us.”

Louis smiles, pink dusting his cheeks as he turns up the volume a little louder.

There’s a shift in Harry’s belly, not a hard strike like he’s been feeling all day, but a gentle motion like an ocean wave.  He smiles as he brushes over the spot he can feel her, softly saying, “You like it, don’t you, lovebug?”  There’s a tiny jump just beneath his palm that he takes as a yes.  “This is the calmest she’s been all day, like, it’s nice movement, y’know?  Not trying to break my ribs like she was earlier.  I think she likes our singing.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, and Harry hums in response.  He pulls into the ice cream place right as the song comes to a close, undoing his seatbelt as fast as he can, trying not to miss her moving.  He reaches over the console to cradle Harry’s bump as best he can from the awkward angle.  “We’re pretty good, eh?”

“I think so.”

There’s another small movement under Louis’ hand that causes the two of them to giggle.  “If you like those songs, Pumpkin, wait til you hear the ones we’ll write about you,” Louis murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of the his belly.

Harry doesn’t stop smiling all the way home.

*

When they get home, Harry licking the remnants of his cone off his fingers, he looks at Louis sheepishly before shifting his gaze to his boots.  “Lou.” 

Louis chuckles with a nod, toeing off his Vans before bending down.  “I got it, angel.”

He doesn’t like admitting he can’t even get his shoes off by himself anymore, but he’s glad he has Louis to help him.  He’s even more glad Louis does it without making fun of him (except for the first time it happened, and even so, Harry agrees it was probably justified since he started tearing up over it because pregnancy hormones are _awful_ ).  Louis doesn’t even make him ask since he knows how stupidly embarrassed he gets, just knows from a single look that he needs help.  “Thank you,” Harry mumbles, bracing a hand on his aching back.

He easily steps out of his boots once Louis has unbuckled them, and it’s then he notices the strange smell floating around their house.  “Is that paint?” Harry asks, sniffing the air a few times with confusion written on his face.  They aren’t supposed to start work on the nursery for another week.

“Um, yeah.  Right, so.”  Louis rubs the back of his neck nervously.  “I kinda asked Liam and Niall to help with the nursery?”  Harry’s heart thuds against his chest.  “It might be a bloody gigantic mistake, but I wanted to surprise you.  That’s why we had to be gone all day.  I wanted to make sure it was done by the time we got home, so ‘m sorry for stalling when you weren’t feeling good.”

Harry feels his eyes well, and he wishes the tiniest things didn’t make him cry lately, but god, he’s got the loveliest husband in the _world_.  “Babe,” he whispers as he reaches out to Louis for a hug.  It’s hard to get close with the bump between them, but they manage.  He takes in a breath as a few tears fall onto Louis’ shirt.  “Lou, just.  Thank you.  ‘M sorry I’m crying, but they’re happy tears.  Promise.”

“’S alright,” he laughs, digging his fingers into the small of Harry’s back and massaging lightly for a few moments.  Harry lets out a sigh of relief at the touch, a few more tears falling.  They really have a finished room for their _daughter_. 

“Did you, like.  Show them the designs we looked at or summat?”

“Yeah,” Louis answers with a grin when Harry looks up at him lovingly.  He runs his thumb under Harry’s eyes gently, wiping away his remaining tears, then pulls away to grab Harry’s hand and start toward the stairs.  “No more tears, love.” 

“I can’t promise that,” he murmurs, feeling another round coming on.  There are butterflies floating in Harry’s stomach, so excited to see what their little girl’s room is going to look like – this is the place where she’ll start her life. 

“Shall we go look?”  Louis’ eyes are glittering.

“Of course,” Harry answers with a grin, following behind Louis.

“Hopefully they didn’t fuck it up.  Because if anyone was going to fuck it up, it’d be these twats.”

Harry giggles as he starts up the stairs, going slowly because even the smallest tasks seem to be getting harder for him as the weeks pass and his bump grows.  “C’mon, love, be optimistic.  I trust them.  ‘M sure they did a beautiful job, and we can tell chou chou her uncles painted her room.” 

“Is that the daddies-to-be I hear?” comes Liam’s cheery voice as he steps out of the nursery, face squished up with happiness.

“Hey, Liam,” Harry greets him with a smile.  “Thank you for doing this!  I can’t believe Lou kept this from me!”

“We’d do anything for you guys,” he replies earnestly, and Harry tears up again, running his index finger under his eyes, thankful to have such amazing friends.

“I trust you didn’t fuck it up, mate?” Louis asks, tone stern but playful, and when they reach the top of the stairs, he puts his arm snug around Harry’s waist.

Liam shrugs, looking all too pleased with himself as Niall walks out of the room and pats Liam’s shoulder a few times.  “Think we smashed it, Tommo!  Baby Tommo is gonna love it!  Even added in an extra surprise for you!”

Louis’ eyes narrow nearly imperceptibly, but Harry squeezes at his arm gently with a smile saying, “I’m sure it looks great.”  Pumpkin kicks a few times like she’s excited, too, and Harry soothes a hand over his belly.  “Can we see?”

“Of course, mate!  We hope you guys like it,” Liam replies eagerly as the two of them move away from the door, allowing Harry and Louis to step in with their hands entwined and get a good look.

Harry gasps when they walk in at the same time Louis makes a choked little noise in the back of his throat.  The furniture they’ve had for so long finally looks like it belongs there, finally looks like a baby will be living in here after waiting for what seems like forever.  The walls are a light turquoise like the ocean with framed pictures of an anchor and rope and ship and compass on the wall in pristine white frames.  There’s a painting of a mermaid that matches Harry’s tattoo next to those, like she’s watching over the nursery and promising to keep their baby safe.  The crib now has bedding with tiny anchors on it with RBB and SBB sitting happily inside, ready to take on their duties as protectors of Pumpkin.

Everything about it feels like _them_ , feels like it encapsulates their love and everything that they are.  They clutch each other’s hands, breathless and feeling so lucky, and Harry’s crying again, tears rolling down his face at how beautiful it all looks until he notices what’s painted directly above the crib in dark blue stencil.

His lips fold into a thin line as he looks at Louis, whose face is still bright with wonder.  In a few seconds the look of happiness melts away, and that’s when Harry knows he’s seen it too.

He leans in to rest his chin against Louis’ shoulder, mumbling, “Why the _fuck_ does it say Pumpkin on the wall?”

“God only fucking knows,” Louis responds with a wisp of a laugh and a tiny sigh, kissing Harry’s cheek before he moves away.

Niall and Liam are standing near them with silly grins on their faces, looking around the room proudly at their handiwork.  Harry glances at the wall again, thinking maybe they shouldn’t be _too_ confident.  “So, whaddya think?” Niall asks, and he looks so utterly thrilled that Harry almost doesn’t have it in him to break his good mood.

Harry smiles, the one that serves dual purpose of fake happiness and ‘I want to kill you,’ as he spits out, “It’s lovely.  Why does it say Pumpkin?”

“That’s her name!  Pumpkin Tommo!” Niall replies excitedly, tone implying it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  “Leemo thought it was a nice touch!”  Liam blushes, but nods happily, clearly very thrilled with his not-so-brilliant idea.  “Looks fuckin’ wicked, doesn’t it?”

Louis throws his head back and lets out a groan, dropping Harry’s hand so he can cover his face, always one for dramatics.  “Did you bloody _idiots_ actually fucking think about how ridiculous this is?”

Liam’s brows furrow, and he bears resemblance to a kicked puppy.  Harry almost feels bad, but when he looks at the wall again, he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over the top of his bump.  “You wanted us to help with Pumpkin’s nursery?  That’s what you said?”  He frantically pulls his phone from his pocket and unlocks it.  “I have the text right here and you sa – ”

“Yes!” Louis interrupts, brows raised.  “Pumpkin because we haven’t fucking _named her yet_.  It’s her _nickname_.  You really can’t be that fucking thick.”

Niall and Liam turn to look at each other, realization sparking in their eyes as Niall lets out a mumbled “thank fuck” that’s filled with relief and Liam nods thoughtfully like it’s all starting to make sense.  “Honestly,” Liam starts, laughter in his voice, and Harry’s sure this will be a lot funnier a few years down the road, but right now, he’s hormonal and his friends thought he was naming his baby, his tiny human he’s waited years for, his daughter... _Pumpkin_.  “I’m so glad you two aren’t because I thought you’d have better taste in names, if I’m honest.  It’s a relief, huh, Nialler?”

“It is, Liam!  And I’d have been damned to have a niece called Pumpkin!” Niall chortles, smile bright as he points to the wall.  He laughs to himself with a shake of his head.  “Glad to know that’s not a contender!  Ya got us good!”

Louis doesn’t say anything, stands silently as he surveys his friends, and then it hits Harry.  He can feel the tears starting to fill his eyes, and he wishes he wasn’t so emotional lately, but he _can’t help it_.  “You wouldn’t have liked her name?” he asks, lip trembling. 

“No, ‘s like...”  Liam looks at Niall for help, clearly struggling.

“You like boats and anchors and mermaids!  So, naturally, we thought it’d be, like, Ariel!  Or Sailor!  Or, shit, I don’t know.  Some other nautical shit, you boat loving fucks,” Niall chimes in with a laugh, throwing his arm around Liam’s neck.  Harry appreciates that he’s trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t make him feel any better when he’s always two seconds away from tears.

Harry sighs and glances at Louis, suddenly insecure.  She hasn’t had a say in her name, _can’t_ have a say, and what if she hates it?  He doesn’t ever want her to hate it.  Or them.  “But she’s been our little pumpkin this whole time she’s been in my belly.  What if she doesn’t like it when we call her that, then?  Oh, god.  Should we go with chou chou from here on out?”

“Shoes?” comes Liam’s voice, and Harry would laugh if he wasn’t upset.  “What do shoes have – ”  Niall whacks him in the chest with an eyeroll, mumbling, “It’s French, Liam.”

“Shh, H,” Louis hushes gently, taking Harry into his arms and placing a hand on his bump.  He rocks them back and forth for a few minutes in the way that always calms Harry down.  He can hear Niall and Liam whispering behind them, but he can’t make out what they’re saying – probably for the better.  “I’m sure she loves any nickname we give her, yeah?  And she’ll love this room once her lovely uncles paint over the wall so it looks extra beautiful again.”  He doesn’t miss the way Louis shoots a glare at them over his shoulder.

“I just want her to know how loved she is, y’know?” he whispers, more tears falling as he buries his face in Louis’ neck. 

“She’ll know, baby,” Louis promises, dropping a kiss to the top of Harry’s head.  “I’m sure she knows already.”  He touches Harry’s bump gently as he whispers, “You know you’re loved, right, Pumpkin?  Or chou chou?  Whichever you prefer.” 

There’s a short kick to Louis’ palm that causes both of them to let out laughs, connecting their lips in a kiss.  “Think that’s her way of saying it’s alright, innit?”

Harry smiles up at him with a small nod as he places his hand on top of Louis’.  “’M sorry, this just made me so emotional.  It’s real, Lou.  We’re gonna have her here in a few weeks.  And we’ve been waiting so long.”

“I can’t wait, love,” Louis tells him, eyes crinkling. 

Harry turns to face Liam and Niall, smile on his face.  “Thank you, guys, honestly.  Aside from, um, your mishap.”  He motions toward the wall.  “it’s gorgeous, and she’s gonna love it so much, god.”  He holds his arms out for a hug, and the two of them rush over.

“Anything for you, Harry,” Niall tells him, patting his shoulder.  “We’re so fuckin’ excited to meet her!  Gonna be proper gorgeous!  Look at the two of ya!  Models!  Practically models!”

“Yeah, she’s gonna be gorgeous,” Liam echoes, motioning Louis over to join the hug.  He joins them with a delighted laugh, attaching himself to Harry’s back, and he can’t help but smile knowing his bump and their little girl are the center of attention.  “And you’re gonna be the greatest dads, guys.  She’s already the luckiest little one.  You’ve been proper broody since we were only kids.”

“Oi, ‘s because we’ve always been ready for the responsibilities of parenthood, young Liam,” Louis shoots back, and they all laugh, not missing the way Niall rolls his eyes lovingly and makes a slight gagging sound.

When they all pull away, Harry wipes at his eyes and looks around the room again, knowing that the feeling of love is more palpable than ever.  “Um, so,” he says, pointing to the gigantic ‘Pumpkin’ written on the wall.  “That’ll need to be painted over.  I expect you’ll take care of it?”  Niall and Liam nod dejectedly when Harry pointedly raises his brow.  “I’ll get refreshments.”

Liam lets out a groan, but Niall gives a resigned salute.  “Walked right into this one, Payno,” he says, and Harry barks out a laugh as he struts out of the room with Louis at his side, feeling better than he has all day.

*

A jolt of pain in his belly wakes Harry up with a start, pressing down at the top of his bump and trying to find some sort of relief.  He opens his eyes, grimacing, and when he looks at the clock, he sees he’s only been in bed for two hours.  Being five days overdue,  Harry hasn’t been sleeping much, anyway, but he’d still like to try while he has the option to go to bed at a reasonable hour.  He sighs in defeat, rubbing a few circles over his bump and whispering, “Let Daddy sleep please, Pumpkin,” before closing his eyes again.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel strange all day – Pumpkin was restless and he was especially achy, in a terrible mood and snapping at Louis for no reason, then immediately feeling bad about it moments later.  His back and hips have been hurting the worst they’ve ever been, and no matter how he sat, he couldn’t find any relief.  He thought something might be going on, thought maybe that meant labor was starting, but that was probably just wishful thinking.  He tries to push those thoughts out of his head when another pain shoots through his belly.

Maybe not, Harry tells himself.  Maybe she’s ready to make her entrance.

He gets himself as comfortable as he can while a part of him hopes that this isn’t real labor, it’s just false contractions again.  He’s ready for her, of course, but all he wants right now is to go back to bed for at least a little while longer.  Louis’ hand around his stomach is a comforting weight, reminding him that he’s not alone in any of this.  Harry breathes evenly as he closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down.  He’s not sure how much time passes, but right as he’s ready to drift off again, his belly is laced with pain.

 _Shit_.  This is the real thing.

He’s not panicking, not really, but he’s _nervous_ because this means they’re going to meet their little girl just hours from now, this little person he’s waited his entire life for.  With a smile, he pets a hand over the top of his bump and whispers, “Not long now, Pumpkin.”  There’s a short kick in response.  “I can’t believe you’re really gonna be here.”

He tears up as he says it, letting a few spill down his face before wiping them away.  He’s lost in his own head for a bit, letting his mind wander about how long his labor might be, how they have to call their families and make sure they’re all there and so many other things, when another contraction starts.  It’s not too painful – more unsettling than anything else, but he knows it’s time to wake up Louis.

“Louis,” Harry says softly, squeezing his husband’s hand that’s resting on his currently hurting belly.  “Hey, babe.”

“Hm?” he mumbles sleepily, moving his arm off Harry and rolling onto his back.  “Y’okay?”

“I’m in labor.”  That’s all it takes for Louis to sit straight up in bed, hair wild and eyes wide. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, throwing off the covers frantically, and before Harry can even answer, Louis hops out of bed.  “Oh, god, Hazza, are you sure?  She’s, like, really coming?  And that means ‘ve got to call me mum and your mum, and where the fuck did I put me phone?  Jesus Christ, so disorganized, but you packed your bag, didn’t you?”  Harry nods, stifling a few laughs as he watches Louis run around their room, stubbing his toe on their dresser.  He lets out a hiss as he heads toward their closet to grab Harry’s hospital bag.  “Bloody fucking hell.  And oh, fuck, love, are you in pain?  Fuck me toe, labor is worse.  Are you alright, baby?  Can I do anything for you?  Shit.”

Harry smiles, nodding.  “’M fine, Lou.  Contractions aren’t that bad right now, and they’re still pretty far apart.  You need to calm down a bit, yeah?  Come lay with me?  Don’t think we have to leave just yet.”

Louis heads back over to the bed, pulling Harry into his arms, but Harry can feel him practically vibrating with tension.  “’M so fucking nervous,” he laughs breathlessly, putting a hand on Harry’s belly just as a contraction starts.

He lets out a breath, still not in too much pain, before he presses a kiss to the side of Louis’ jaw.  “Nothing to worry about, babe.  You’re gonna be the greatest papa in the world.”

Louis smiles, kissing Harry’s curls.  “You’re amazing, Haz.  Fuck, you shouldn’t be the one calming me down.  You’re the one actually having her.”

“It’s fine.  Gets my mind off it,” Harry laughs, snuggling into Louis’ chest.  He’s not ready to go to hospital yet, wants to stay at home and be comfortable in their bed for as long as possible.  Louis pulls him in a little closer, rubbing his back. 

“You sure you’re doing alright?”  He sounds calmer now, but Harry can still feel his heart pounding.

“’M good, yeah.  Just wanna relax.  ‘S not that painful yet, ‘s, like, unsettling, I guess?”  Louis nods.  “So, stay with me, please?  ‘M so tired.”

“Anything you need,” Louis answers with a kiss, and Harry knows he’s trying to sound calmer than he really is, but he appreciates it as he focuses on his breathing.

“She’s coming,” he whispers, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.  “She’s really on her way here, Lou.”

Louis grins.  “Can’t wait to meet her.”

They fall into an easy silence for awhile, Harry laying on Louis’ shoulder with his eyes closed and trying to forget the world.  He’s almost asleep when he feels another contraction shoot through his bump, and he winces, letting out a pitiful whine.  “You’re doing so good, baby,” Louis assures, rubbing his shoulder lightly, and while it doesn’t do anything to help, he’s so grateful to have Louis by his side.

“Hurts,” he manages, opening his eyes as the pain starts to subside.

“I know, love, but you’re gonna make it.  So proud of you already.”  Louis drops a kiss to the top of his head, and Harry nuzzles even further into his neck, wanting to be shielded from the world.

It’s quiet again, Harry almost drifting off while he’s not in pain, until Louis murmurs, “Last night ever of being just us.”  He touches Harry’s belly lightly, eyes wet.  “’S mad, innit?  We’ve waited for so long, and now...”

It’s not that Harry hasn’t thought of this before – of course he’s known their lives would change forever once their daughter was born – but as another contraction starts, it’s so _real_.  They’re going to be _parents_ in a few hours, responsible for another life, and god, it’s a miracle and really fucking terrifying all at once.  “I love you, Lou,” Harry whispers, breathing through the last of the contraction and looking at his husband with wide, tear filled eyes.  “You’re my everything.”

“Hazza,” Louis says softly, lips curling into an easy smile as his eyes crinkle at the corners.  “I love you more than anything.  I can’t wait to start this life with you.”  He leans in for a kiss, and Harry cups his cheek, smiling against his lips.  “We’re gonna smash it, I reckon.”

Harry giggles, wiping his eyes as he soothes a hand over his belly.  “Coolest dads ever.”

*

An hour and a half later, Harry’s contractions are more severe, and they decide it’s time to head to hospital when they’re eight minutes apart.  It’s scary to leave, knowing that the next time they come home, they’ll be a family of three with no longer just the two of them to worry about.  It does funny things to Harry’s heart, and he can feel his chest constrict when he thinks about it.  They’re going to have their own baby to fall in love with every single day, and that’s the most exciting thing to ever happen to him.

Louis still looks a little frantic as he pulls out Harry’s softest joggers and an old Green Bay hoodie with shaking hands, but he’s putting on a brave face and Harry couldn’t be more thankful.  He quickly calls their families to let them know what’s going on and give them enough time to get on their way, and then it’s time to go, heading to the door while another contraction wracks Harry’s body.

“Breathe, angel,” Louis says, helping Harry waddle down the stairs, and he lets out a long, ragged breath as he stops for a moment, bending over until the contraction passes.  “Good job, Haz, you’re doing so well.”

He nods distractedly, squeezing at the stair railing as the last of the pain dissipates.  “Do we have everything?” he asks, and Louis holds up the hospital bag with a smile.

“All we need, right?”

“Think so.”  He rubs a hand over his belly once he reaches the bottom of the stairs, nerves suddenly hitting him like a ton of bricks.  They’re really doing this.  They’re going to be _parents._

“No worrying,” Louis whispers, catching on right away, always able to read Harry like an open book even when no one else can.  He kisses him sweetly.  “’S all good, Hazza.”

Harry grins, burying his face in Louis’ neck as his hand comes to rest on the small of his back.  “What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis.  “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”

“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car.  “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time.  ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”

*

The cops interrupt them.

It shouldn’t be surprising.

“Lou,” Harry breathes, trying his best not to whine as another contraction starts.  They’re getting more and more painful, and he can’t wait to get to the hospital and get settled.  He involuntarily whimpers, and Louis flits his eyes to him, pale blue in an oncoming car’s headlights.  “You’ve gotta slow down.”  He rubs a hand over his belly and reaches his other over to stroke Louis’ wrist.  “You’re gonna get pulled over, love, just chill a bit, yeah?”

Louis huffs, pressing his foot down further on the gas.  “I’m getting you to that hospital as fast as I can, H, and if they don’t like it, they can kiss me arse.”

“Louis, there are, like, you know, laws, and if you break them, they’re going to stop you, and it’ll take longer to get there.  And I, for one, would love some fucking pain medication ASAP.”  A particularly painful contraction hits, and he clutches hard at Louis’ hand, moaning.

He can feel the weight of Louis’ gaze on him, even with his eyes shut in pain.  “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he says, voice unbearably soft as he presses his thumb against Harry’s wrist.  “You’re doing so well, baby, so, so good.  ‘M proud of you.”

He lets out a long breath as the contraction continues, much longer than the ones he was dealing with earlier.  “’M good,” he says once it passes.  “Just wanna get there _safely_.”

Louis rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything in response, jaw hardened.  He keeps his eyes on the road, still speeding down the highway.   Harry’s about to open his mouth to tell him to cool it when he’s hit with another contraction at the same time flashing lights and a siren start behind them.

“Motherfucking piece of shit, cock sucking, god damn fucking asshole,” Louis groans as he flicks his blinker on and pulls over, letting his head fall to the back of the seat as he rolls the window down. 

A whimpered, “Lou” is all Harry can get out.

“Hazza, breathe, alright?”

Harry nods and closes his eyes again against the pain.  He can barely make out the staccato tap of the officer’s boots on the pavement over the cars rushing past, but he focuses on that rather than the pain in his belly.  He rubs a soothing hand over his bump, letting out a little groan.  “Lou,” he manages, voice tight.  “Don’t tell him where we’re going.  Don’t want – ah – people to find us.” 

Louis looks over at him with nervous eyes right as a booming voice says, “Hello, sir!” causing Louis to jump.

“Hello, officer,” Louis mumbles, and once the contraction passes, Harry focuses on him and can tell he’s trying his hardest not to roll his eyes right in the face of authority.  He’s practically vibrating, fingers tapping against the wheel in a wild rhythm, and Harry can only hope the cop doesn’t keep them long for a multitude of reasons.

“Were you aware that you were speeding?” he asks, voice even, and Harry slides his hand onto Louis’ thigh as a silent reminder for him to stay calm.

“Sorry,” he replies as earnestly as he can, looking at him out the window as he stops drumming and grips the wheel instead.  “Just.”  A pause.  “In a bit of a hurry, I guess.”

There’s a lull, only noise the cars zooming past them on the highway, and Harry looks over at the officer to see his face scrunched, like he’s wracking his brain for something.  “Wait a minute – aren’t you...you’re that guy from One Direction!”

Louis holds his hands up, laughing in the way he knows is charming as Harry stifles a giggle.  “Guilty.”

“And you’re that other guy from One Direction!”  He points over at Harry, and he waves weakly before wrapping his hand around his belly.  “Bloody hell!” he cheers, demeanor changing completely as a jolly guffaw escapes him, leaning his arms casually across the open window.  “My daughter loves you lads!  She’d have killed me if I hadn’t known it was you!”

Glancing over at Harry nervously, Louis chuckles.  “Give her our best, yeah?”

“You guys are on that break now, aren’t ya?  My daughter was devo when she found out!  When are ya comin’ back?”

Another contraction hits and Harry’s so overwhelmed with pain he can barely hear what Louis is saying to the officer over the blood rushing in his ears.  His hand is still on Louis’ thigh, and he grips at it for some sort of relief, throwing his head back on the head rest.  He feels Louis’ hand on top of his after a second, soothing his thumb over his wrist.

It’s one of the most surreal experiences of his life – which is saying a lot, he thinks – being this close to delivering their baby while Louis amiably tells a police officer, “Promise we’re coming back, yeah, still got a lot left we want to accomplish as a group.”

He can’t blame the officer for trying to strike up a conversation with them, especially since he doesn’t know what’s going on, but god, he wishes Louis could just snap at him at tell him that now isn’t the place.  An especially painful jolt hits, and he bites his lip to hold back any noise as the officer still babbles on, oblivious to the fact that they were clearly heading somewhere and that Harry is dying of pain only mere feet away from him.

It’s just that he doesn’t want to have their daughter in their fucking car on a busy highway.  He really doesn’t think that’s too much to ask.

Harry miraculously manages to let the contraction pass without a sound, breathing heavily once it’s finally over.  The officer is somehow still talking a mile a minute, mentioning something about seeing them in concert during the UK leg, as Louis looks over at him again, eyes wide with sympathy as he nods slightly. 

“Please,” Harry manages to whisper, barely audible, and he’s not sure exactly what he’s pleading for, but Louis seems to get whatever message he’s trying to send as he looks back to the cop.

“Um,” Louis manages, a sheepish smile coming over his face.  “Sorry to – ”

“ _I’m_ sorry,” the officer finally says with a laugh.  “Could I possibly get an autograph for my daughter?  Then we can just brush this off and pretend it never happened, eh?  We all get a little reckless sometimes!”  He winks.

“That’d be wicked,” Louis tells him, bringing out his saccharine look of innocence again and batting his lashes for good measure.

“I’ve got some paper in my glove box!  I’ll go get it!”  The officer gives them quick smile before heading away.

Louis immediately turns to Harry, taking his hand in his.  “Baby, I’m so sorry – I didn’t know he’d – ”

“’S fine,” Harry answers breathlessly, nodding a little.  “’S not your fault.  We just need to go, Lou, ‘s getting bad.”  He can feel another contraction about to start and takes in a breath, gearing up for it.

Louis’ face flashes white in the glow of an oncoming car as he squeezes Harry’s fingers, leaning over to kiss his cheek.  “You’ve got this, Hazza,” he murmurs right below his ear, warm and reassuring.

“Can’t believe you’re pulling out your Prince Charming routine,” Harry laughs with a slight shake of his head, a moment of calm before the next strike of pain.

Louis shrugs, smile sly.  “’S working, isn’t it?”

The cop returns with a grin and a pad of paper right as the next contraction hits, holding out the pen to Louis.  “Her name’s Poppy.  She’ll go mental!”

“Dad of the year,” he says as he quickly scrawls his signature out on the paper.

Harry’s been trying his hardest to hold back, but he involuntarily lets out a wail that seems to echo off the ceiling and bounce around the car.  “Oh my god,” he moans as Louis shoves the pad back into the officer’s hand and reaches over to put a hand on Harry’s thigh.  “Holy fuck, oh my god, Lou.”

“Breathe, baby, breathe,” Louis says softly, petting against his leg gently.  “You’re so good, angel.  Doing so good.”

“Hurts so bad,” he grits out, holding onto the handle of the door in a vice grip, knuckles going white.

“He okay?” the officer asks, voice laced with genuine concern.  Harry wants to scream out that he isn’t, that they were in a hurry for a reason, but Louis jumps in before he can say anything he’ll regret later.

“He’s in labor,” Louis answers quickly, and Harry lets out another tiny moan, gripping Louis’ hand as the last of the contraction passes.  “’S okay, Hazza, you’re good.”  He strokes a hand down Harry’s cheek softly, and Harry leans into his touch, soft on his skin.  “Okay, love?”

He can still feel the pain radiating, ready to start up again, but he nods.

“That’s why I was speeding,” Louis continues, turning back to the officer.  “On the way to hospital, really didn’t want anyone to find out but our families, y’know, want our privacy.”

“Jesus, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.  “God, I wouldn’t have kept ya so long talking about all this shit!”  He leans in to get a better view of Harry.  “You gonna be alright to make it there?”

“Yeah,” Harry tells him, not entirely confident.  “Barely.”

“I’ll give you an escort,” he replies immediately, and Harry wishes he could be more eloquent, thank him profusely and tell him they’ll send him a fruit basket, but he feels like he has a very good excuse as to why he’s mostly useless.  “Can get you there in no time!”

“Good,” is all he can manage, and he’s glad when Louis takes over and speaks for him.

“We really appreciate it, sir, thank you, thank you!  Can you leave a card with your name on it at the hospital?  Want to put in a good word for you and all that.” 

The officer smiles, patting Louis’ arm and wishing them good luck before jogging back to his car.

Louis rolls up the window, the quiet a welcome change from the busy sounds of the highway.  Harry lets out a wail mixed with a sigh of relief, sagging against the seat and gripping Louis’ hand tightly in his.  “You’re good, baby, you’re good.  We’re gonna get there so fast.”

The siren comes on from behind them, and the police car dashes in front of them, Louis stepping on the gas to follow behind.  Harry’s immediately calmed once they’re back on the road, no longer worrying about getting there in time.

“Hey, Lou,” he says softly, a moment of peace before the next contraction flares up.  Louis looks over at him briefly, brows quirked in interest.  “We’re gonna be dads.”

Louis grins, all sharp teeth and crinkled eyes, smile looking too big for his face.  “Let’s go have a baby, baby.”

*

Adaline Lily Tomlinson is born at the break of dawn, loud, strong cries letting everyone know she’s made her entrance.

Harry isn’t quite sure who cries the most - him, Louis, or the baby - but he _is_ sure that he never wants to let her go.

There’s a part of him that immediately misses knowing she’s safe and protected in his belly, but having her here is better than anything he could’ve dreamed of, love for her already overflowing, soaring to levels he couldn’t have imagined mere hours ago.  She has ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes and blue eyes like Louis’ and just the tiniest wisp of blonde hair and her face is still squished slightly, but she’s gorgeous, and she’s _theirs_.  They have a _daughter_.  He and Louis are _dads_.

“She’s so beautiful, Hazza,” Louis whispers incredulously for what must be the third time in the last fifteen minutes, and Harry nods, but can’t tear his eyes away from Addy.  “I can’t believe she’s ours.”

The three of them are curled in his hospital bed, Harry and Louis pressed close to one another as they stare down at their daughter, their little miracle, their greatest accomplishment.  Now that all their families have gone home after lots of tears and kisses and cuddles, it’s their first moments together as a trio.  It feels surreal.  It feels like everything Harry has ever dreamed of.

She’s sleeping in Harry’s arms, snug in her tiny pink blanket and hat, and Harry could stare at her forever.  If no one stops him, he might try.  “She's so perfect, babe,” he says, stroking a finger down her cheek like she might break.  “I think we did a great job.”

Louis kisses just below his ear, and Harry can feel his smile without even seeing it.  “Poor thing’s stuck with me nose.”  Harry turns just in time to watch Louis scrunch his face up adorably, and he laughs, kissing him softly.  “Hope she gets your curls.”

“I love your nose,” Harry tells him, poking lightly at Addy’s and watching as her face contorts into something like a smile even in her sleep.  He’s so in love with her.  “’S extra beautiful on her.  God, Lou, we made her.”

Louis leans his chin on Harry’s shoulder, nosing into his hospital gown.  “I can’t wait to show her the world.”

Harry’s heart flutters at the prospect, thinking of all the things they’ll get to teach her, all the places they’ll get to go, all the milestones they’ll get to watch.  He thinks of all the traits of his and Louis’ she’ll inherit, how pieces of them will be instilled in her.  It should feel terrifying somehow, but he’s at peace as he watches her chest rise and fall.

He yawns against the back of his hand, eyes suddenly feeling heavy.  He’s been fighting sleep for the last half hour, choosing to stay awake to look at Adaline for as long as he can, but exhaustion seems to be winning.  He feels Louis droop against him, snuffling slightly, and he knows it’s finally time for them to go to bed. 

“I love you, Lou,” Harry murmurs, pressing a kiss to Louis’ hair.

“I love you, baby.  ‘M so proud of you.  Love you, too, Pumpkin.”

Harry feels warmth flood his veins as he blinks slowly, gazing at Adaline again.  He kisses her tiny forehead, grinning when she makes a gurgling sound and shifts in her blanket.  He can feel Louis starting to drift, breathing slow against his neck, and while he wants to relish in this feeling for as long as he can, he lets his eyes fall closed.  Harry leans his head against Louis’ and pulls Adaline close to his chest, feeling her every breath.

He’s got forever to be in love with his family.

He can’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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